


Traditions

by the_tenth_muse1



Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Gen, Shmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-01
Updated: 2016-01-01
Packaged: 2018-05-10 20:41:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5600113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_tenth_muse1/pseuds/the_tenth_muse1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ichabod gets his first taste of modern holiday shopping and Abbie shows him something special.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Traditions

**Author's Note:**

> holiday shmoop of the tooth decaying kind and omg! I wrote gen! ;o) S1 obviously, no spoilers though

“My God. It’s the Fourth Circle of Hell!”

Abby laughed at Ichabod’s scandalized exclamation, his blue eyes wide and tall, lean body leaning back as if to back away without moving. The mall, with its thick holiday crowd greedily grabbing up deals and hauling around shopping bags, was clearly not going to make the list of ‘new favorite places.’ She nudged him forward and said, “You’re not wrong. Come on.”

It was the first Christmas Ichabod had had since dying and Abby didn’t think she’d have to do much to make it memorable. Ichabod still had a fascination with pretty much all electronics, all books were new to him-even classics-and his choice in clothes was decidedly… lacking in modern aesthetics.

He stayed close to her as they walked through the mall, as if her shorter form could protect him from the insanity. Even though Abby never really relaxed in crowded places, she enjoyed the general bustle of the holiday shoppers. The tinned carols added to the cacophony and she saw Ichabod wince more than once when the speakers were overwhelmed, which made her grin some more.

“You’re enjoying this!” he accused as they squeezed into a gadget store. “I should have guessed.”

Abby chuckled and said, “It’s Christmas tradition, Crane. Of course I enjoy it.”

His scowl deepened enough that the sales kid changed trajectory and went to help a mother and her three screaming children.

“When I asked where to shop for yourself and Miss. Jenny, this was not what I had in mind,” Ichabod practically growled.

Abby bit back another snicker and gave him her best poker face. She clapped her hands together sharply and said, “Okay! Let’s do this.”

An hour later, they were out of the madness of weekend-before-Christmas-Christmas-Shopping with bulging bags. Ichabod had a glazed, shell-shocked expression on his face and stumbled outside after her. The cold air felt like a slap to the face after the overwarm mall and she coughed a bit as her lungs adjusted.

Ichabod had come out of his near comatose state by the time they reached her jeep. After putting the bags in the back, careful to not let her see what was in her gift bag, he said, “I shall never do that again.”

Abby clapped him on the back. “It’s the modern tradition, Crane. Get used to it.”

“Never,” he repeated darkly.

Giving him a break, Abby drove back to Sleepy Hollow at a more sedate pace than usual. She also stopped in the town center.

Ichabod frowned at her. “What are we doing here? I will not let you peer inside the bag to ruin your surprise.”

Abby grinned and said, “I won’t peek. Promise. But I have a surprise for you.”

He squinted at her a bit suspiciously. “Pray tell.”

“Oh no. _I_ won’t be ruining _your_ surprise. Come on,” she said, opening the door and getting out of the car.

It was almost a full minute later before he did the same and she practically heard his heaved sigh of, “why me” before doing so.

The main streets were blockaded with wooden horses, creating a haven for the pedestrians out in full force. Night had fallen a good half hour ago and the area was lit with pretty white lights that adorned almost every structure. Small vendors with their carts and tents filled up the street in a mini holiday faire. Mother Nature added to the quaintness by choosing then to fill the air with gentle flurries, the kind that was very pretty but never stuck to the ground.

Abby watched Ichabod taking in the sights and smiled at the pleased expression that had erased all his previous aggravation. Lit up with good humor and curiosity, he was a very handsome man.

_Too bad he’s not my type,_ she thought with an internal grin.

They wandered the small holiday faire for over an hour, going from booth to stall to tent with an unhurried pace. They stopped for mulled cider and warm scones, both of which had Ichabod practically in rapture. A few women nearly walked into each other when he moaned with pleasure, which had Abby coughing into her hand to stifle the laughter.

The highlight of the night was carolers in full colonial costume singing colonial hymns and carols. Ichabod’s face was nearly incandescent with happiness as he watched them sing. He even hummed along to a few of the songs in a rich baritone, drawing surprised looks from those around them.

All in all, it was a very pleasant night despite the dropping temperatures.

When they got back to the jeep, Ichabod said, “Thank you, Leftenant. This was… extremely agreeable.”

Abby smiled and said, “I’m glad you liked it.”

“Liked it? Oh no, Leftenant. This was far more than mere ‘like.’” Ichabod paused, as if searching for the right words. “This was a… small piece of home brought to life. For a couple of hours, I could believe that all was right with the world and that it wasn’t, quite literally, going to Hell.”

Abby reached out to gently squeeze his shoulder. “It’s not going to come to that, Crane. We’re going to take care of this together. We’re partners, after all.”

He smiled broadly, pale eyes lit with a happy sort of confirmation. “Indeed.”

“All right then. Now I’ll show you how to wrap the gifts.”

“Wrap them? Are they not sufficiently covered with the elaborate gift bags in which they came?”

“Oh no. Those are shopping bags, Crane. You can’t give the gifts in those.”

“Dear God. I think I need liquid fortification.”

“That, I can also take care of.”


End file.
